Hidden Talents
by MaggieMayI
Summary: "You're not the only one with hidden talents…" Some Jane/Kurt fluff following 1x09. One-shot. AU.


_A/N: I was re-watching 1.09 for the hundredth time and I just love how Jane raises her eyebrow after Weller shows her the swiped key card. Just thought I would have some fun with the hidden talents line. This totally ignores the end of 1.09, as well as all of 1.10._

* * *

Upon finishing up the Rich Dotcom debrief with Mayfair, Weller walked into the locker room to grab his jacket. It was well after hours, so he was surprised when he found it already occupied. She was so focused on the task at hand, Jane didn't hear him enter. Weller watched as she dragged the wet towel over the skin of her neck, shoulders, and arms… slowly revealing the ink that the FBI makeup artists had so effectively hidden below.

He was drawn to her face then, reflected in the mirror. Her slight frown a permanent fixture as she worked to rub her mask away. He imagined what she might be thinking, surmising that she wished she could play pretend forever… if only it allowed her to look on the outside like everyone else. To be normal.

But if he was honest with himself, he had to admit that the more he got to know her, the more he appreciated just how not normal she was.

"Hey," Weller said then, making his presence known. He could only imagine what Reade or Zapata would say if they walked in and found him staring at her.

She jumped slightly at the intrusion, and then turned to find him walking towards his locker.

"Oh, hey," she replied, before turning back to the mirror.

Weller grabbed his jacket, but instead of leaving, he walked over to stand next to her.

"How's it going?" he asked, not ready to leave her just yet.

"I'm good, still pretty amped up," she replied as she returned to her task, reaching to remove the makeup from between her shoulder blades. "I just keep thinking about what would have happened if Reade and Zapata hadn't…"

"We would have figured it out, Jane," he said, taking the towel from her hands to get the hard to reach area of her back. "We always do."

She watched his face in the mirror as he concentrated on removing the makeup. As his fingertips grazed her skin, she couldn't help but be drawn back to the memory of his touch from earlier that day. It had all been so intimate, yet so natural. His hand possessively resting on her hip, his fingertips as they squeezed her own, the honesty in his voice, his eyes while he had reminisced about his past relationships over their dance, the effortless ease with which they worked together to maintain their cover. As dangerous as the situation had been, Jane had to admit she was slightly sad that everything was back to normal.

Back in the present, she relished the feel of the pressure as he continued to move the towel over her skin, and she warmed when she realized he was tracing the letters of his name.

"I have to tell you, running in those heels was one of the hardest things I've had to do," she said then with a laugh, trying to lighten her mood and keep her thoughts of Weller at bay.

"Could have fooled me," he responded with a smile. "Guess it's just another skill we'll have to add to the list."

Pleased with his work, he handed the towel back to her.

She returned his smile, and then turned a slow 360 to check for any missed spots.

"That'll do for now," she announced to her reflection, satisfied with the results. She tossed the dirty towel in the bin and walked to her locker. She threw a Henley over her head and grabbed her coat.

"So I guess I'll see you tom…"

"I was wondering if you wanted to…"

They both spoke at the same time.

"You first," Jane laughed as she put on her coat.

"Do you want to grab a drink?" he asked, uncertainty in his voice. "I know I owe you one," he quickly added, "and after what happened today, I don't think I'll be able to sleep anytime soon."

"Sure," she replied, smiling at his rambling… and the thought of spending more time with him. "Lead the way."

* * *

She recognized the brick of Weller's neighborhood, but not the bar they stepped into. Not that she frequented many bars. Most of her drinking was done at home, alone.

'But not tonight,' she reminded herself as she followed him to the back of the bar.

They grabbed two stools towards the end. The jukebox was nearby. Jane glanced at a couple throwing darts along the back wall as she shrugged out of her coat and took her seat.

The bartender quickly walked towards them with a smile on his face.

"Hey Kurt," he said as he held out his hand.

"Hey Josh," Weller responded, grabbing the bartender's hand and shaking it heartily. "Josh, Jane. Jane, Josh."

"Hey Jane," Josh said then, extending his hand to hers.

"Nice to meet you," she said, shaking his hand in return.

"What can I get for you," Josh asked then.

"Couple of bourbons to get us started?" responded Weller as he glanced at Jane. She nodded her head in affirmation. She liked that he knew her drink.

"Coming right up," Josh responded.

"Come her often?" she asked with a smirk, after Josh walked away to get their drinks.

"Once in awhile," he responded with a laugh. "It's close enough that I can walk home if need be. That eases Sarah's mind somewhat."

"She doesn't like you drinking?" Jane asked.

"Sawyer's dad was a drinker…" Weller explained.

"Oh, sorry…" Jane responded

"Not that they didn't have other problems, but it's the main reason why they split. So I try not to drink too heavily at the house when they're around," Weller finished.

"Let me know if you need anything else," Josh interrupted as he placed the glasses in front of the pair.

"Thanks," Weller responded as he picked up his glass and turned to Jane.

Mimicking him, she lifted hers to his.

"Happy 70th birthday, Carl," he said then, with a smile that reached his eyes.

Jane laughed instantly.

"To Carl," she responded, and then joined him in a long, slow sip.

They returned their glasses to the bar and Jane couldn't help but notice his arm pressed lightly against hers.

* * *

They chatted casually through the first drink. Weller did most of the talking. He told her a lot about Sarah and Sawyer, about how interesting it was to have a nine-year-old underfoot after living alone for so long.

As Weller raised his hand to motion Josh for another round, the couple that had been playing in the back placed the darts on the bar next to Weller and Jane and walked out.

Jane picked one up and twirled it in her hands.

"Have you ever played?" Weller asked her as he paid for the drinks.

"Patterson and Zapata tried to show me how once," Jane admitted. "But they were pretty drunk, so it didn't go so well."

"Want me to teach you?" he asked.

"Sure," she replied, excited to play the game for real.

Weller grabbed his change off the bar and fed a few dollars into the dartboard.

"The game is called Cricket," he explained. "You have to hit numbers 15 through 20 three times each, and three bullseye's. This ring counts as double, and this one as triple," he said, pointing to the board. "If you hit more than three of a number, and the other person doesn't have that number closed, you'll get the face value in points. First person to close everything and have more points, wins."

"Sounds easy enough," Jane replied. "You go first."

"Okay," Weller said as he took the darts from her hands.

He lined himself up and took aim. Jane watched in astonishment as he hit a triple 20 and double and a single 19.

He removed the darts from the board and handed them to her with a smile.

"Just getting warmed up," he teased.

She shook her head and toed the line.

Her first dart landed between the 20 and the 18, but the throw gave her the feel for the weight of the dart. Her next shot sailed into the single 20, and her last closed 20s with a double.

"Not bad," Weller said as he took the darts from her.

He lined himself up, and Jane's jaw dropped as he took his turn. A triple 18 and two double 17s put him drastically ahead, with points to spare.

"What have I gotten myself in to?" Jane asked. "Is this another of your hidden talents?"

Weller laughed as he handed her the darts.

"This is how I got myself through college," Weller replied. "I used to hustle people at the bar. I barely ever had to pay for drinks."

"Wow," Jane replied laughing, "I'll say."

The game didn't last much longer. Jane started to get the hang of things, but Weller was on point from the start.

"We'll call that one a practice round," he said as he removed his bullseye winning darts. "Let's give it another go… best of three?" he challenged.

"Bring it on," Jane accepted.

* * *

Three dart games and four glasses of bourbon later, Jane was two bullseye's away from beating him two games to one.

After their practice game, Weller took the first game outright, but Jane had eventually found her rhythm, and took the second game from under him. The third game had been a volley, but Weller was currently ahead by one bullseye.

Jane lined up and was about to throw her first dart.

"Don't miss!" Weller shouted, teasingly.

She balked, and then turned to roll her eyes at him.

"You're just nervous I'll make it, that's why you're cheating," she taunted.

"I'm not nervous," he responded, laughing. "Just trying to see if you'll crack under the pressure."

"Bet you I won't," she said, confident she could make the shots she needed to win.

"Bet me what?" he asked with mischief in his eyes.

Jane had to think about it. She knew Reade and Zapata bet on stuff all the time. Little wagers that meant nothing… they were more inside jokes than anything else. But inside jokes came from history, and as close as her and Weller were, they didn't have much history.

He saw her struggling to come up with terms, and decided to help her out.

"Okay, here are the terms," he said, saving her. "If you win, I'll buy the next round."

"You've bought all the rounds," she retorted, "I don't have any money."

"If I win," he continued, ignoring her comment, "we have to finish that dance."

Her eyes widened and snapped to his. She saw the competitiveness there, but also, something else. She obviously wasn't the only one still thinking about their earlier escapade.

He was putting her in a tough position though. Does she throw the game to get what she wants? Or does she beat him to prove she can't be intimidated? With the way he was looking at her, waiting for her response, she knew there was a good chance that, even if she won, they'd end up in each other's arms. Suddenly confident that she was winning either way, she smiled.

"You sure you want to take on the Tango champion?" she teased with a laugh.

"I'm game if you are," he said smiling, relief evident in his gaze that she'd agreed.

Jane lined herself up and zeroed in on the bullseye. She threw her first dart, and groaned when it barely missed. It landed just below the outer circle. She looked back at Weller. His arms were crossed in front of his body and he was wearing a shit-eating grin.

Dance be damned, she wanted to beat him. She shook off the first shot and took a deep breath. She settled in and her second dart sailed right to its mark… dead center of the bullseye.

"Ugh," she heard him groan behind her, but she didn't dare turn around. She had to stay focused. They now needed one bullseye apiece. Knowing what a shark he was, Jane knew this was her last chance.

She lined up her dart and released. She closed her eyes and slumped her shoulders when the dart just missed to the left.

"Nice try," he teased as he walked by her to grab them from the board.

She took a seat at the bar and sipped her drink as he got himself situated. She watched his jeans tighten over his quads as he bent his knees slightly. Watched as his muscles flexed under his shirt as he adjusted his arms. She was so focused on watching him, that she didn't see his first dart hit the center of the board.

"Ha!" he exclaimed as he turned towards her and pointed at his dart.

She just rolled her eyes and took another sip of her drink.

"I think we learned something new about you Jane," he teased as he sidled up to the bar, dropping his remaining darts directly in front of her.

"What's that," she asked in mock annoyance.

"You're a sore loser," he said as he smiled and picked up his drink.

"Shut up Weller," she grumbled as she took another sip, but she couldn't help but smile around her glass.

She watched as he finished the rest of his drink in two large sips, and slammed his empty glass on the bar.

"Now, I think I'm ready to collect my winnings," Weller stated, digging through his pockets.

"Right now?" she asked, surprised. A quick glance around would tell anyone that people didn't generally dance in the bar they were in.

"Yep, right now," he replied as he came up with a dollar bill and walked over to the jukebox.

She watched in nervous anticipation as he scrolled through the options, finally pressing some buttons. Jane didn't recognize the song, but it was slow, and the voice was soothing.

He walked back over by the dartboard and held out his hand.

Jane set down her drink and walked slowly towards him. Her heart was beating wildly. She placed her hand in his and he drew her to him.

They settled into a slow sway, his body pressed lightly against hers. It was so familiar yet completely new. Earlier today, their actions were necessary to their survival. Despite what Jane had felt while in Weller's arms, she'd forced herself to dismiss it because it was all meant to be just an act. But now, it was just Kurt and Jane, alone together.

Her arms slowly left his shoulders to wrap around his neck. She felt his stubble against her forehead as she turned her face into the warmth of his neck. Each swaying step brought them closer to one another. The contact was electric. She relished the warmth that bled from his body into her own.

Tango champion or no Tango champion, Jane now understood the intimacy of a dance. And after experiencing it with him, she couldn't imagine doing it with anyone else.

Suddenly, he pushed her back, twirling her like he did earlier that day. She laughed as she spun, thinking the effect wasn't nearly so dramatic in her jeans and t-shirt as it had been in her ballgown, but it was fun nonetheless. He'd pushed her out towards the back wall, and when she came to face him once again, instead of pulling her in, he stepped forward to meet her where she stood.

Before she knew what was happening, her back hit the wall. His body instantly molded perfectly to hers. She watched his gaze as it traveled from her eyes, down to her lips, and back again. Suddenly attuned to what was happening, Jane's gaze dropped to his mouth and she licked her lips in anticipation.

* * *

Weller took interminably long to close the distance between them. He secretly took pride in her gasp when she'd hit the wall. He could feel all of her against him, and couldn't help but wonder how much better it would be skin to skin.

He moved one hand down to her hip, its curve all too familiar to him. Unlike the polite distance they'd maintained earlier, he pulled her as close as he possibly could. His other hand was pressed against the wall next to her head, giving him the leverage he needed to keep her exactly where he wanted her.

He kept his eyes locked on hers, smirking slightly when she glanced at his lips, then licked her own. He leaned in then, no longer able to simply wonder what she tasted like. He needed to know.

* * *

Jane's eyes fluttered as Weller closed the distance between them, his lips brushing softly against hers. She was instantly drawn in to the contrast of the softness of his lips amidst the scruff of his beard. He increased the pressure then, but the kiss was still feather light.

Suddenly, she found herself involuntarily moaning as his mouth opened slightly and his tongue brushed against her bottom lip. In response to her moan, his hand left the wall and wrapped around the back of her neck. He changed the angle and his lips sank into hers fully.

Her hands moved to encompass his back as his kiss became more urgent. She could do nothing but follow Weller's lead as his lips continued to assault her own. The wall supported them as he pushed his full weight against her. They were impossibly close, but Jane's couldn't help but press her fingertips against his shoulder blades, beckoning him further in to her embrace.

Finally, out of breath, they were forced to part, but he didn't go far.

"Jesus Jane," he whispered, as his thumb came to graze over her cheek, before it dropped to the bird that adorned her neck.

Her eyes found his and the depth of them startled her. The raw want was plain as day. It both thrilled and terrified her that she felt the same.

Jane had some fleeting memories sure, but for all intents and purposes, this was her first kiss. It was almost overwhelming.

"You're good at that," she suddenly blurted out, which had him laughing, and her blushing.

"Another one of my hidden talents I suppose," he responded huskily, before closing the distance for another taste.


End file.
